Roulette
by stress
Summary: Where everything is a game of chance and the Witch is the one calling the shots. [HMC] More than two years after HMC, Howl and Sophie have a fierce opponent to face. Kidnappings, wagers & magic feats follow, as well as unexpected news.
1. In which Sophie is upset

**Title**: _Roulette_

**Summary**: _Where everything is a game of chance and the Witch is the one calling the shots. _More than two years after HMC, Howl and Sophie have a fierce opponent to face. Kidnappings, wagers & magic feats follow, as well as unexpected news.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this piece, except for the Witch. Howl, Sophie, Calcifer, etc. are all marvelous characters but, alas, they are © to Diana Wynne Jones, not me.

**Author's Note**: _Well, as you can see, I've decided to write a fan fiction story based on Diana Wynne Jones marvelous book, _Howl's Moving Castle_. I have been a huge fan of DWJ for a bit now (maybe 5-6 years) and, apart from the _Chrestomanci _books, _HMC _was the first I read. It is my favorite DWJ book and probably one of my favorite books ever. I love the plot, the characters, the setting, the style, everything. However, after watching the anime movie, I appreciate the book 10x more now. And, as I've recently re-delved back into the world of I decided to try my hand at a _HMC _fic. I'm still trying to get the characterizations right; I much more adapt at writing _Newsies_, I'll tell you now. But, I've been researching this, and I think it might become an interesting, if not long, piece. I hope anyone who finds and/or reads this enjoys. Come on, we need some more _HMC _out there, no? -- Stress. _

- - -

I. In which Sophie is upset and Michael goes on an errand

_In the land of Ingary_, where castles can be seen moving across the countryside and an eldest daughter can find happiness with a vain slither-outer, it was quite a misfortune if one ran afoul of powerful magics. A wizard could send you to another world if you failed to pay him for a simple charm. A witch could curse you to live the rest of your life as a tea cozy should you slight her appearance on May Day. It just wasn't a good idea to cross the magic-users.

If one was smart, as many of the citizens of Ingary were, they treated all the sorcerers with the utmost respect. They were careful to keep the mages and warlocks, witches and wizards, as well as the apprentices – it was always a smart move to be kind to an apprentice; they could be very useful years on when their training had completed and they remembered the grocer that gave them a free apple – in high spirits. It had now been nearly two and a half years since the dreaded Witch of the Waste had disappeared, thanks to the Wizard Howl; those in Ingary were glad to be rid of such a nuisance and, more now than ever, made it their purpose to keep those with magic appeased.

All citizens of Ingary, it should be said, except for one fledgling witch. Sophie Hatter-Jenkins, at the moment this story begins, was preparing to do everything in her newfound power to make life miserable for one wizard. But, of course, that was to be expected. That wizard, the famed Wizard Howl, Second Royal Wizard to the King of Ingary himself, deserved every harsh word that Sophie had – many of which her youngest sister, Martha, had taught her. As her husband, Howl should have known better than to have upset her. After all, she was a witch in her own right.

Sophie stormed from the bathroom, wearing a towel over her hair and an apron over her simple dress. She had heard her husband enter the castle and hurried out towards him. She headed straight towards the workbench where her yellow-haired husband was now discussing something with his apprentice. "Howl–" she began but stopped when she saw that he was pointing something out on a piece of paper. She waited until Michael had nodded his understanding and had hurried out the door, before starting again. "Howell Jenkins," she said warningly, hands on her hips and a frown marring her delicate features. Howl kept his head down, folding up the piece of paper he had shown Michael. He knew he was in trouble; Sophie never used his Welsh name unless she was absolutely furious with him. While the pair of them quarreled – granted, more than the average married couple – his young bride was never _that_ angry.

Howl picked up the folded square of paper and slipped it inside the large sleeves of his blue and silver suit before jumping up from the workbench and spinning around. "Sophie, _cariad_. How lovely to see you so early this morning," he said happily, spreading his arms out around him in a gesture of surprise that she had appeared behind him. His eyes lingered on the white towel that kept her red gold hair out of his sight but, in true Howl fashion, he neglected to say anything to his wife. She was angry enough and he, of course, didn't like to be disagreeable.

Her frown turned into a scowl and she removed her hands from her hip. She used her right one to steady the towel; she had caught his glance. "Howl, it is well past noon," she noted, using her other hand to point out the door Michael had left open in his haste to leave the castle. Sunlight streamed in delicately indicated that it was, indeed, midday rather than morning. "Which you would know," she continued, trying not to notice the sad expression that Howl had exchanged his earlier smile for, "if you hadn't spent the entire morning in the bathroom before running out and leaving me behind to clean up your mess."

Howl's glass green eyes, natural in comparison to his heavily dyed hair, sparkled lively though he kept his pout. "But Sophie, I had to. There was another rumor abound that the sweet little princess was in danger. Suliman and I had been summoned to Court this morning and I needed to look my best. One must always present themselves to his Majesty looking their best," he added, watching her expression carefully. Sophie wasn't buying it.

"Well, you can tell the King next time that he'll have to pardon your appearance. You left in such a rush this morning that the bathroom was covered with your spells and I had to spend a good hour cleaning up after you," she said, still annoyed – and even more so now that he had made up such an obvious excuse. She shook her head in disgust, but, with that action, the towel slipped down. She tried to catch it in time but was not quick enough. Long dark hair cascaded around her shoulders.

Howl understood now. Sophie was not mad at the mess he had left behind; while it was true that his bathroom time had cut down considerably since they had married nearly two years ago, he still spent much of his time keeping up his appearance. He was vain – he knew it, she knew it, Michael knew it, Calcifer knew it. He needed to be handsome like Sophie needed to clean, and their individual quirks were what made the pair of them so happy with each other, regardless of what the snarky fire demon quipped when he caught them fighting. No, Sophie was not upset at the mess he had left that morning. His lips curled upwards in a genuine grin. _At least there is no sign of green slime_, he noted, but knew better than to say that aloud. His infamous temper tantrum was still a matter of great fun to discuss when the household had nothing better to talk about over supper.

Though he said nothing to her about her new hair color, Sophie could tell exactly what was going on in his head. "May I just say, Howl, how thankful I was that you mixed my shampoo with your hair color spells," she said with a shake of her head.

He couldn't hold it any longer. His angular face looked past Sophie and searched out the bluish-green fire demon lurking in the hearth. "Calcifer? Have you seen how beautiful Sophie looks with such fine, dark hair?"

Calcifer poked his head out from behind a stack of logs. "See, Sophie? I told you so earlier," he said, though his orange eyes danced.

Sophie spun around and, despite wearing a blush at Howl's compliment, stared at the fire demon. He flickered before growing large enough to see Howl from across the room. "All I heard from her this morning was 'I need hot water, please, Calcifer,' before she came running from the bathroom, screaming like a banshee. I told her it was becoming on her fair skin but all she wanted to do was find you, Howl. She was about to run straight out of the castle to find you when I asked if she was going to bother dressing before streaking through Kingsbury."

Howl started to laugh at the idea of Sophie running out of the house without wearing any clothes. Sophie's blush only darkened and she turned to face her husband. "I was wearing a towel," she said, sending him a message with her eyes that he better stop laughing at her expense. He chortled once more and stopped.

When both Howl and Calcifer had stopped talking, Sophie pulled at the ends of her hair. She still looked as angry as she had before but she also seemed very embarrassed. Howl took a few step forwards and wrapped his arms around her. He placed his chin on top of her newly dark hair and breathed in the scent of honeysuckle. _So_, he thought, _she used my perfumes today in her bath as well_. She normally preferred her own simple soaps and shampoos when compared to all of his spells. _I wonder what this is all about?_ But, again, Howl kept his thoughts to himself. It would do no good to question Sophie when Calcifer was resting in the hearth within the castle. He would wait until the fire demon took one of his nightly reprieves and left the young married couple alone for a few hours before he asked her about her behavior. For now he would settle for a bit of her gratitude at helping her. "Would you like me to restore your natural tint, Sophie?" he murmured into her hair. He rather wished she would let him; as fickle as he may be, he preferred Sophie to look just as she did when he first met her. Though, of course, he would still love her if she was a cranky, old woman. It was such a Sophie that he had fallen in love with, after all.

She shook her head slowly, gently so as not to cause his chin to move from its position. "No," she said quietly, "I can do it myself. I was just so…so frustrated this morning when I saw that my hair had gone dark. I mean, my hair was white for so long. I didn't want it to be anything but my normal color."

"Hello? Do you guys want me to leave or should I stay and watch the show?" Calcifer did not like to be forgotten. Although he was able to go where he pleased whenever he wanted, he made his home in the castle with Sophie, Howl and Michael. When he was set in the hearth, he did not like to be ignored. Michael had already gone on an errand. All he had left was the Jenkins' to keep him company.

Howl pulled back from Sophie and laughed. "Don't worry, Calcifer. When I want you to leave, I'll be sure to let you know," he said cheekily before walking to the work bench. He cleared a stack of spells away to the side and sat down upon it. He gestured to Sophie, who had bent down to retrieve her forgotten towel, and clapped his hands. All at once he was the impressive wizard that she knew him to be. "Alright, Sophie. Let me see you turn your hair color back," he said, and she could hear that there was a bit of a challenge within his tone.

She placed the towel down upon the old chair that faced Calcifer's grate. She turned to him and noted that the fire demon was watching as well. Though her magic was quite different than the types that either Calcifer or Howl possessed, Sophie felt that she had to show what she could do. She knew the pair of them liked to watch her work her strange brand of magic; it was her gift of talking life into inanimate objects that had given her the ability to break the contract that had kept Calcifer and Howl tied to each other for so long.

Sophie turned her gaze from Calcifer and, instead, focused on her hair. She held thick strand between her fingers and began to murmur to it. She was well aware that she had a captivated audience and she refused to give them the satisfaction to hear her plead with her own hair. But that's exactly what she began to do. "Come on now, you know that you aren't supposed to be this dark color. Why don't you just let go of that nasty old spell and go back to your regular color, hmm? A nice red gold, wasn't it?" As she spoke, the heaviness of the hair tint spell began to disperse. By the time she was done, the color had all but faded right out of her hair.

She dropped the ginger strands of hair and looked over triumphantly at her husband. He clapped his hands at her success but his applause was accented by a set of laughs. Her eyebrows rose and his laughter ceased. "What's so funny?"

Howl didn't seem to want to answer. She spun around to look at Calcifer; he had begun to laugh as well. She could see his purple tongue within the blue flames as he sniggered.

It was at that moment, as Calcifer continued to laugh, Howl smiled and Sophie grew madder than she was before, that the door to the castle opened and Michael entered. He was out of breath and, though tall for a young man of seventeen, seemed to cower in the doorway. Once he had caught his breath, he turned around and shut the door behind him before turning back and addressing the odd scene in front of him. Before Howl could stop him, he looked at Sophie questioningly. "Why are you standing in a puddle of black ink, Sophie?"

Sophie's mouth dropped open slightly. She glanced down and saw that Michael was right. Surrounding her, on the floor, was a rather wide pile of a dark liquid. But it was not ink as the young apprentice had assumed. She knew it was the hair color spell that she had assumed disappeared. Her face grew even redder before she grabbed at the towel. When she started to clean it up, Howl stepped down from his workbench, his smile still firmly plastered on his angular face.

Howl made sure to side-step his wife – he knew better than anyone, except, perhaps, Calcifer and Michael and the spiders that lived in the master bedroom, how manic she could be when it came to cleaning – as he approached Michael. Before he could ask, Michael produced a small package from beneath his jacket. Howl accepted it and patted him on the back. "Good man."

Sophie glanced up in time to see Howl slip that up his sleeve as well. "What do you have, Howl?"

"Nothing that is your concern, Mrs. Nose," he said, playfully. Even after two years of marriage, Sophie still maintained her insatiable curiosity. He saw that she was prepared to argue, as she usually did, that anything that was _his_ concern was _her _concern as well; before she could even begin, he bowed with all the regality he could muster. "When the time comes, _cariad_, I'll be more than glad to show you what I have in this box." And, before she could reply, Howl had flounced up the stairs.

Sophie watched as her husband disappeared with the package. As curious as she was known to be, Howl was that secretive when he wanted to be; it was another of their quirks that kept them evenly matched and happily married. If Howl did not want her to know what was in that box, then he wouldn't tell her.

_Howl _wouldn't tell her.

A grin came to her face. She stood up and, pausing only to fold the soiled towel and placed it back on the chair, she approached Michael. The apprentice, sensing what was coming – after living with the pair of them so long he knew exactly what to expect when the Jenkins' were quarrelling, especially when the subject of the quarrel, however minute, concerned him – tried to make it up the stairs to his room.

But Sophie, much faster now than she was when she was cursed to wear the body of a ninety year old woman, made it to the staircase faster. "So, Michael," she began, and he could see in her eyes that he wasn't getting past her without any sort of answer, "what did you just give Howl?"

Michael just gulped. Young Sophie Jenkins was much scarier than old Sophie Hatter.


	2. In which a discovery is made

**Title**: _Roulette_

**Summary**: _Where everything is a game of chance and the Witch is the one calling the shots. _More than two years after HMC, Howl and Sophie have a fierce opponent to face. Kidnappings, wagers & magic feats follow, as well as unexpected news.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this piece, except for the Witch. Howl, Sophie, Calcifer, etc. are all marvelous characters but, alas, they are © to Diana Wynne Jones, not me.

**Author's Note**: _And, finally, a second chapter. I wasn't sure how serious I wanted to take this but I've decided that a humorous twist never really killed anyone. And, besides, I doubt anyone expected this to be in the box. At least, I sure as hell didn't – and I thought it up. Anywho, here's chapter two. Reviews are your friends. -- Stress. _

- - -

II. In which a discovery is made

Sophie placed her hands on her hips and stared at Michael. The young boy tried to avoid her glare but found he was almost inexplicably drawn to it. He was just about to break down and tell her exactly what was in the box – which, of course would be a lie as he had no idea whatsoever what was in the box that Howl had him pick up – when Calcifer yelled out. "Hey Howl? Sophie is bullying Michael again."

Sophie glanced over Michael's head and saw Calcifer. As possible as it was, the fire demon was resting in his crate, smug. "Snitch," Sophie said, sticking her tongue out at him. Calcifer grinned back at her; she could see his smile clearly amidst the flames.

Howl appeared at the top of the staircase, empty-handed, almost immediately after Calcifer called him. He looked down on Sophie and Michael and smiled. He shook his pointer finger playfully at them both. "Michael, what kind of apprentice are you? Letting my wife bully you like that? Shame on you."

Michael flushed and tried to explain. "I'm sorry, Howl, but Sophie, sh-"

Howl held his hand up, the look on his handsome face was amused. The quick way he appeared at the top of the stairs showed that he was expecting Sophie to try to get the truth out of Michael; his green eyes twinkled in a way that indicated he found it all very entertaining. He turned from his apprentice and eyed his wife.

"And, really Sophie, you should know better than that. Did you actually think that I told Michael what was in the box?" He was obviously still amused. He shook his head before shaking the hand that was still extended. The long sleeves billowed around until a single piece of paper flew out. Still smirking at the pair on the steps below, Howl puffed his cheeks and blew the air out slowly. The paper floated down gently until it paused directly at the level of her eyes.

Sophie reached out and grabbed the paper. She looked up questioningly at him for a moment. _Was he really making it that easy for her? _He caught her eye and, using his hand, gestured for her to read the paper. She nodded and lifted it up. With a smirk, she began to read it out loud:

"_Chymer 'r lath a chyflea 'i i mewn drwnc. Arhosa ddeg chofnodion a ymgynghora 'r ffenest. Ai mae a bincio bannod anrhega, llon.gyfarchion. Ach 'n feichiog!"_ Sophie struggled with the pronunciation of each word. When she was done, she looked up at Howl, who was trying his best not to laugh at her accent. She waved the paper at him. "You know I don't understand Welsh, Howl. What does this say?"

Howl shook his finger at her. "That's for me to know. Besides, it was just a joke, really. I thought it would be amusing to show it to Michael before I remembered that he couldn't understand the tongue either. So, there, be satisfied, Mrs. Nose – he knows as much as you do."

Sophie opened her mouth to argue back but, before she could, Howl shook his hand and the paper was back between his fingers. Then, with a cheeky smile, Howl retreated back to the bedroom they shared.

She stared up the staircase, hands on her hips. Michael, still behind her, and eager to follow in Howl's example and go hide out in his room, heard her mutter. "Damn that slither-outer," before going up after him.

Michael paused for a moment, waiting for the sound of the door slamming that indicated that Sophie had followed Howl into their room. When it came, he turned and glanced over at Calcifer. The fire demon laughed once before grabbing a log and busying himself on that. Michael shrugged his shoulders and ran for his room. _This is the kind of family I'm marrying into?_

- - -

Sophie approached the door and rested her hand on the knob. _This is my room, too, _she reasoned and opened the door. Surprisingly, Howl had not locked the door behind him. She entered the room. "Oh my," she exclaimed, putting her hand to her heart. Howl was standing just across the room, staring at the open door, his arms across his chest and a handsome smirk on his face. "What took you so long, Sophie," he said and Sophie cursed herself for coming right up after him. She had done exactly what he had expected her to do.

But she wasn't going to let him know that. She looked around the room and spied her brush. Pointedly ignoring her husband, she walked over to her dresser and picked up her hairbrush. "I needed to brush my hair and make sure all of _your _hair spells are out of it," she said, and began to run the wiry brush through her hair.

Howl watched her action before flicking his hand. The box Michael had given him earlier fell out into his waiting palm. "Oh, really? I thought you had come up here to pester me about this box some more."

Almost immediately Sophie placed the brush down. She knew that Howl wouldn't wave the box around and taunt her for no good reason. _I'll get him to tell me what he has_.

"Come her Sophie," Howl said, gesturing for her to walk over to his side. "I have something I want to give you."

She assumed a suspicious expression but did what he asked. The temptation to find out what he was hiding was too great for her to ignore him.

Howl lifted the box up and slowly removed the lid. Sophie rose to her tip-toes and peered inside. There, resting a top a feathery nest, was a simple glass bland. It was small and round, with a hole in the center. It appeared to be a ring.

She looked up at him questioningly. "What is this, Howl?" It seemed much too simple for Howl's taste.

He reached one of his long, thin fingers inside and drew the glass piece out. Her assumption that it was a ring was proven true when he lifted her right hand up and delicately slid the ring onto her middle finger. He kissed the ring once and, to Sophie's surprise, when he drew away the ring had adopted a golden color. Howl smiled. _The spell is working._

"Why Howl, its lovely. But, wh—" Sophie glanced down at the ring on her finger. In the middle of her sentence, the golden ring began to hum. She lifted her hand to her face and stared at the band. Not only was it making a buzzing noise, it was slightly glowing. "Howl, what exactly is this ring?" she asked, her voice going very quiet. She should have known better to accept anything Howl gave her at face value.

Howl met her eyes and his smile widened. "Shh, _cariad_," he said, and brought his finger to his lip, indicating for her to be quiet. He turned his attention back to the ring. The hum seemed to intensify and Sophie let out a whimper. She felt as if her finger was being stung multiple times. She raised her other hand to pull the ring from her finger but found herself blocked by Howl. He took her hand in his. "Not yet," he murmured.

Then, as quick as it all started, the buzzing stopped, the pain subsided. Howl removed his hand from her left one and reached for her right. The ring he had just slipped onto her middle finger. The ring, rather than the golden hue it had assumed when he first placed it upon her, had turned a vivid blue color. "I can't believe it," he said, and his smile grew even wider. His eyes sparkled as he gazed upon the ring. "It's just about time," he added before lowering Sophie's hand.

Sophie pulled her hand back and made to take the ring off. But, just when she wrapped her other fingers around it, the stinging began. She quickly let go of the ring. "Howell Jenkins, what did you do?" she asked, holding up the ring as evidence in case he tried to slither-out of answering her.

For once, Howl did not try to get around answering a question. "Don't try pulling that off, Sophie," he instructed. He placed his arms on each of her shoulders and, before she could duck away, kissed her on her forehead. Then, he moved back and looked down at her, lovingly. "The ring needs to stay on your finger until our son is born."

Sophie stared at him. "Did you just say 'until _our son _is born'?"

"Yes. That ring has a charm in it to make sure that he is born healthy," he answered. "Are you alright?" he asked, looked concerned at his wife. She was staring at him with an angry look on her face; her face was almost the same color as her hair.

Sophie took a deep breath. When she spoke, her words came out almost as a deadly whisper. "How do you know we are having a son?"

It was at that moment that Howl knew he did something wrong. "The ring. I thought you would like to know when you would finally give me a child so I had a friend of mine whip this ring up. I just never thought that you would actually be expecting when I gave you the gift, though, I must say, it's about time, Sophie," he said.

He could see that his explanation was not what she wanted to hear. Her face went even redder and her hands were shaking. Without any of his normal arrogance or vanity, Howl frowned at her. "Did I do something wrong?"

- - -

Sophie thundered down the stairs, drowning out Howl's piteous moans from behind her. She knew him better though; he didn't pity her for her reaction at his revelation, he pitied himself. And she wasn't standing for it right now. Without even stopping for her shawl, she grabbed hold of the knob, swung it so that it was –side-down, and flung the door open.

After the door had slammed shut, Howl slunk down the steps and sank into the armchair facing Calcifer. "I'm ruined, old friend," he sighed and let his head drop down on his chest.

Calcifer, like Sophie, knew better than to be taken in by Howl's theatrics. Howl sniffled once more for good measure. The fire demon sighed. "What did you do now, Howl?" he asked, his tone uninterested. He knew how to bother Howl better than anyone – Sophie included.

Annoyed that Calcifer did not actually care about his torment, Howl refused to lift his head. "Oh, woe is me," he said, louder this time. _There. Calcifer should really feel sorry for me now._

The fire demon said nothing. Howl just sat there, moaning and faking an occasional sob until, finally, he glanced up to make Calcifer listen to his troubles. But, when his green eyes peered into the grate, he got a surprise: Calcifer wasn't there. The fire demon, rather than deal with Howl in one of his moods, had escaped from the castle.

Howl sat in the chair, his mouth left slightly agape. It was only when he remembered that such an action was unbecoming of such a handsome wizard that he stood from the chair. As he saw it, he had two options. He could take his upset out in magic form and fill the castle with green slime. Then, when Sophie returned from her unreasonable snit, she would have quite the mess to clean up.

But he couldn't do that to his wife. Not in her present condition.

So, instead, he chose to take the second option. He slunk over to where he kept his hidden store of liquor. If he got himself good and properly drunk, he reasoned in Howl logic, by the time Sophie returned he would be prepared to apologize and beg her forgiveness for whatever it was that he had done wrong this time.

- - -

A few hours later found Sophie, still angry at her husband, sitting at the table in her younger sister's home, drinking tea. Lettie Suliman, newlywed wife to the First Royal Wizard, sat there patting her elder sister's hand. "There, there, Sophie. Would you like me to turn him into a slug for you?" Lettie, as talented as she was beautiful, was gifted with significant magical ability. Her stubborn and protective nature had her wanting to hunt down Howl right away but, surprisingly, Sophie talked her out of it. Lettie had then spent the rest of the afternoon concocting different creatures that Howl should be doomed to spend the rest of his existence as for doing this to Sophie. Lettie had not forgotten, nor forgiven, the fact that Howl kept Sophie to himself for so long when she was cursed; she also had been wary of him since the times he had tried to court her. This predicament gave her the perfect opportunity to rid everyone of him. _It's a shame Sophie likes him so much_, she thought as she tried to comfort her sister. "I could have Ben seal him back up in that Wales of theirs if you want."

Sophie sighed and, using the hand not currently being patted by Lettie, reached for her teacup. After taking a long swig of her tea, she shook her head, sending her long red-gold hair to rest on her shoulder. "If only, Lettie. But then what about the baby?" She didn't doubt the magic at all; if Howl said that the ring indicated that she was expecting, then she believed it. _But what an arrogant, Howl-type way to reveal such a thing!_ Sophie felt a wave of anger towards her husband. _How dare he!_

Lettie smiled and the sight of her sister calmed her down somewhat. "Don't worry, Sophie. We won't hold his father against him. We'll still love the child."

"Lettie!" Sophie didn't know whether to laugh or cry at her sister's statement. _Thank God for Lettie._

Lettie batted her long, dark eyelashes. "What?" she said, innocently. The innocent act lasting only a minute before the two Hatter sisters broke out into laughter. _It really was a good idea to come see her,_ Sophie thought. She was still angry at Howl's nerve but felt much better about the situation after she went to Kingsbury to visit the Suliman's. True, it had taken her two hours to found her way to their home – she _did _always get lost in Kingsbury – but her sister had been the perfect audience for her to tell her tale about Howl's actions that morning. "But, seriously, Sophie. I'm sure Howl didn't mean to be such an insensitive cad. A cad, definitely, but insensitive?"

Sophie nodded and placed her hands across her midsection. "I know," she admitted. "I just wasn't expecting him to come out with anything like that. And to be so honest with me? I guess I was more surprised with his honesty than with his discovery. The last time that Howl was honest with anyone was when the Witch of the Waste's curse came true."

"And that wasn't such a bad thing now, was it?" Lettie was grinning now. The day that the separate curses laid by the Witch of the Waste on both Howl and Sophie were broken was the day that Lettie met her future husband, the Wizard Suliman.

"I guess not," Sophie agreed. She patted her stomach twice, comfort pats for the child freshly created. She felt, despite her best efforts, a smile slowly stretching across her face. "Thanks, Lettie. I feel better now."

Lettie nodded before a mischievous glint came to her eyes. "Are you sure that you wouldn't mind a slug for a husband?"

Sophie just laughed good-humorly.

-

**Translation**:

I decided to put the translation here because, when I double-checked the translator, the English was all wonky. So, here is what that paper Howl was showing Michael really said (or, at least, what I intended it to say. Whether or not the Welsh remotely resembles the English is based on the level of trust I have in my online translator – and that's not much, people)

_Chymer 'r lath a chyflea 'i i mewn drwnc. Arhosa ddeg chofnodion a ymgynghora 'r ffenest. Ai mae a bincio bannod anrhega, llon.gyfarchion. Ach 'n feichiog!_ - Take the wand and place it in urine. Wait ten minutes and consult the window . If there is a pink line present, congratulations. You are pregnant!

In case you weren't paying attention to the "discovery" made in this chapter, the paper that Howl had were instructions to a pregnancy test from Wales. He found them to be funny because of their primitive quality; he preferred to use magic to discern when Sophie became pregnant as we see during this chapter.


End file.
